Page 108
Story: Doyle
Gabriella nodded, and Tia pulled her tight again, her eyes closed, her cheek against Gabriella’s head.
Doyle looked up, his headlamp flashing light around the chamber. “Are we under the sacristy?”
Rohan nodded. “I think so. But the door is sealed.” He pointed to ornate metal stairs that curled down from the ceiling.
Declan had stepped into the chamber and stood with his hands on his hips. “You okay, kids?”
Doyle didn’t hear their answer as he moved the light around the room, across the various nooks and arches that held artifacts—statues of the Virgin Mary, crucifixes. A bench sat in the middle of the room. “I think this was used as a prayer room.”
“And for storage,” said Ethan, who’d walked over to an arched doorway and stepped inside. “I think this is the tunnel entrance.”
Doyle pressed his light into the space. A tunnel, and at the end, a blockade of rubble.
Ethan stared at it. Sighed. He turned and headed back to the chamber.
Well, that ends that, thank you.Doyle stepped out and watched as Declan climbed the stairs. He held the light steady as Declan reached the top and pushed against an iron door at the top.
It creaked, and Declan glanced at Doyle. “I think we can move it.”
Ethan lifted his flashlight as Doyle climbed the stairs and perched next to Declan.
Declan stepped up, put his shoulder against it, braced his hands on the door. “On three.”
Doyle braced his hands on it too, and on the count, pushed.
The metal door groaned, fought them, and Declan let out a grunt.
But it moved. Pebbles and broken stone rained down over them.
“I think it’s just rusty,” said Declan. “Let’s go again.”
Doyle readjusted, and this time when Declan pushed, he added his own grunt?—
With a terrible shriek, the door broke free. Dust clouded Doyle’s hair as cool air rushed into the dark space. Declan climbed up. “It’s the sacristy. There’s a rug over the door.”
Doyle stuck his head up into the small room, dark, night pressing through the tall stained-glass window.
He looked down at Tia, and she grinned up at him, so much light and triumph in her beautiful eyes, her arms around Gabriella. And it swept through him then—the sense that this, right here, was what he’d been looking for, waiting for, even perhaps hoping, without knowing the answer.
He’d always felt a little less-than with Juliet.
Tia made him feel bigger than himself. Made him feel part of something that could change if not the world then the lives that he’d been granted stewardship of.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Rohan, and climbed the stairs. Doyle moved aside and helped Declan lift Rohan to freedom.
Jaden followed, climbing up on his own. Except he gave Declan a hug as he jumped out. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”
Tia had released her hold on Gabriella, and the girl ran up the steps. Declan and Doyle lifted her into the church. She hugged Declan too.
Doyle turned back to Tia. “Let’s go.”
But Tia was looking back down the tunnel and now receded into the darkness. “Ethan?”
Doyle headed down the stairs. “Tia—what’s?—”
Oh.
Ethan stood in front of one of the vaults, his light shining on a plaque.
Doyle looked up, his headlamp flashing light around the chamber. “Are we under the sacristy?”
Rohan nodded. “I think so. But the door is sealed.” He pointed to ornate metal stairs that curled down from the ceiling.
Declan had stepped into the chamber and stood with his hands on his hips. “You okay, kids?”
Doyle didn’t hear their answer as he moved the light around the room, across the various nooks and arches that held artifacts—statues of the Virgin Mary, crucifixes. A bench sat in the middle of the room. “I think this was used as a prayer room.”
“And for storage,” said Ethan, who’d walked over to an arched doorway and stepped inside. “I think this is the tunnel entrance.”
Doyle pressed his light into the space. A tunnel, and at the end, a blockade of rubble.
Ethan stared at it. Sighed. He turned and headed back to the chamber.
Well, that ends that, thank you.Doyle stepped out and watched as Declan climbed the stairs. He held the light steady as Declan reached the top and pushed against an iron door at the top.
It creaked, and Declan glanced at Doyle. “I think we can move it.”
Ethan lifted his flashlight as Doyle climbed the stairs and perched next to Declan.
Declan stepped up, put his shoulder against it, braced his hands on the door. “On three.”
Doyle braced his hands on it too, and on the count, pushed.
The metal door groaned, fought them, and Declan let out a grunt.
But it moved. Pebbles and broken stone rained down over them.
“I think it’s just rusty,” said Declan. “Let’s go again.”
Doyle readjusted, and this time when Declan pushed, he added his own grunt?—
With a terrible shriek, the door broke free. Dust clouded Doyle’s hair as cool air rushed into the dark space. Declan climbed up. “It’s the sacristy. There’s a rug over the door.”
Doyle stuck his head up into the small room, dark, night pressing through the tall stained-glass window.
He looked down at Tia, and she grinned up at him, so much light and triumph in her beautiful eyes, her arms around Gabriella. And it swept through him then—the sense that this, right here, was what he’d been looking for, waiting for, even perhaps hoping, without knowing the answer.
He’d always felt a little less-than with Juliet.
Tia made him feel bigger than himself. Made him feel part of something that could change if not the world then the lives that he’d been granted stewardship of.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Rohan, and climbed the stairs. Doyle moved aside and helped Declan lift Rohan to freedom.
Jaden followed, climbing up on his own. Except he gave Declan a hug as he jumped out. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”
Tia had released her hold on Gabriella, and the girl ran up the steps. Declan and Doyle lifted her into the church. She hugged Declan too.
Doyle turned back to Tia. “Let’s go.”
But Tia was looking back down the tunnel and now receded into the darkness. “Ethan?”
Doyle headed down the stairs. “Tia—what’s?—”
Oh.
Ethan stood in front of one of the vaults, his light shining on a plaque.
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